


The Russian Pianist

by jynx



Series: The Russian Pianist [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-19
Updated: 2016-04-19
Packaged: 2018-06-03 07:57:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6602938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jynx/pseuds/jynx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’d Googled him; that was how he knew his brother now, through the internet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Russian Pianist

**Author's Note:**

> SpringFRE Prompt: "Meeting Again for the First Time"

He wasn’t sure, at first, that it was Kili. The hair was different—more curly—and he was taller, lankier, with spindly fingers that looked more as if they would be more comfortable on a piano or a violin than with a bow. Then again, that was where they belonged now. That was why they stood in the bus shelter outside Symphony Hall where Kili had practice every day.

He’d Googled him; that was how he knew his brother now, through the internet.

Kili was famous, playing with multiple different orchestras over the years. A Russian national, he’d left his home with the Russian Symphony Orchestra for a fresh start with Boston’s Symphony. It was a mystery as to why but then again the internet didn’t seem to care about the whys, only the fact that Boston had gained such a gifted pianist.

It filled him with a warmth to know, to see, how well Kili was doing.

Kili never seemed to recognize him when they met under the bus shelter. Occasionally there’d be a frown, but it would be directed at the phone in his hand, and he never looked up.

Until today.

One of the other buses, not his bus, pulled away and Kili looked up from his ever present phone. His eyes met Fili’s for the briefest of instances before flicking away, but that was all that was needed.

Fili stepped forward, hand out-stretched. “Phillip.” His voice was flat, accent that of someone from the middle of Iowa, from a farm with nothing but corn for miles, but it was who he was now. He ached, hoping he was still someone Kili would love, would need.

Kili blinked, both at Fili and his hand, before slowly reaching out to take it. “Kirill,” he said, his own Russian accent thick.

Fili felt like his hand was burning, feeling sparks flicker around his skin from where he and Kili touched. His brother, his One, his other half, his everything… Kili’s eyes widened and his grip tightened. Fili smiled, aware that tears were slowly slipping down his cheeks.

“I’ve missed you,” Fili said softly.

“I’ve missed you too,” Kili said.

Fili was about to say something when the right bus pulled up, Kili’s bus right behind it. He looked at their hands, then at Kili’s gorgeous brown eyes, and at the buses.

“Dinner?” Kili asked, the barest hint of hesitation.

“Forever?” Fili countered, smiling broadly.

Kili’s lips twitched. “Let’s start with dinner."

“Dinner it is, then,” Fili said.

As the buses pulled away the two of them walked, hand in hand, toward the future.


End file.
